


Adjustments were Made

by To_Shiki



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cock Cages, Come Inflation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Supposed to be funny, i hope i got everything, questioined fashion, quickly escalated to porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4763357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/To_Shiki/pseuds/To_Shiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DAI kink prompt again:  "The Inquisitor gets a little tipsy with their friends and asks how the straps and buckles and stuff on Dorian's clothes even work and wouldn't it take a while for him to undress? (Seriously, WHY ARE THEY THERE? Nobody knows. Probably fashion.)</p>
<p>The poor Inquisitor finds out FAR more than they ever wanted to know."</p>
<p>It went from funny to porn so fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adjustments were Made

The tavern’s all but deserted this late at night.  Only Cabot remains, a wary eye on the drunk Inquisitor and their equally inebriated companions.  The Inquisitor has a companion on each shoulder, one hand around a waist the other around a shoulder with drink still in hand.  They’d been there since their triumphant return just after the lunch hour and had been drinking steadily up until now. 

Drunk enough for the boisterous laughing to fade to sniggering as the Iron Bull pulls the Tevinter mage onto his lap.  Drunk enough that all Dorian does is lean back with a pleased sigh, legs spread to either side of the Bull’s massive thighs.  All three across the table raise their eyebrows, impressed at the mage’s dexterity.

The Iron Bull smirks, running a hand up and down Dorian’s chest.  Idly he plays with the leather straps on his shirt as the other lays warm and heavy on the inside of his thigh close to his groin.  His palm rests for a moment over a cluster of straps before curling into the loops of cord above them.

“WHY ARE THOSE EVEN THERE?!”

The Inquisitor’s sudden outburst has Cabot dropping a glass, a companion falling off their seat, and Dorian arching into the suddenly possessive hold the Iron Bull has on his thigh.  There’s going to be another wonderful bruise come morning to add to his collection.

“Why’re what where?” he gets out, tongue tripping over the words from the terrible ale.  He really should stop lowering himself into drinking it every time.

The Inquisitor waves vaguely in the direction of Dorian’s body.  “Those!  All those….  Straps.  And belts.  And stuff.”  They take a quick gulp of ale.  “How does the Bull even get you undressed enough for fucking without flagging?”

Dorian answers with a put upon sigh. “It’s called fashion,” at the same time the Iron Bull says, “You really wanna know how?”  Dorian’s breathe catches in his throat when he feels the Bull’s fingers become firmer in their tugging on the straps.  “None of you southern barbarians would know it if it bit you in the ass.”  He’s just drunk enough he could- 

And the Iron Bull’s got his mouth sucking on his neck just below his ear.  He could-

“Do you really want to know?” he asks their friends, breathless, as the Iron Bull roughly slides his hand up his thigh to cup his trapped cock.  He thrusts up into the Bull’s grip, whining low in his throat.

“What do you say, Dorian?”  The Iron Bull’s voice pitches low, rumbling out his chest and throughout Dorian’s body.  “Shall we show them how we get you out of all pretty clothes?”  Both hands still, grip firm, grounding.

The Inquisitor and two companions, one still on the ground with only the top half of their head visible, wait with baited breath.  They know that if Dorian agrees it would mean a major step forward in breaking the teachings Tevinter had beaten into him.  It had taken nearly half of their pursuit of Corypheus to get the mage comfortable enough to sit on the Iron Bulls lap in public.

Dorian squirms in the Bull’s hold, gasping harshly as the hands keep him in place.  Keep him safe.

And nods.

All of them release their breath and it’s so loud it has Dorian drunkenly giggling at such a foolish reaction.  “It’s just skin,” he admonishes, the haze of alcohol making the terror of being seen this friendly with another man in public a far off whisper.

Instead all he can hear is his heart beating louder and faster, the Iron Bull’s heavy breathing next to his ear and the _snap_ of the first buckle pulled free.

“Well, you see, Boss.  Since I was going broke from having to replace all the robes I’d torn and Dorian here would always dress blindly in the night to creep away we had to think of something to make things easier.”  _Snap_.  “A few well-placed snaps here and there instead of actual buckles.”  _Snap_.  “Undo just these three real buckles here.” _One-two-three._   “And pull this cord here aaaaand…”

The Iron Bull moves both hands up, grips the edges of Dorian’s shirt, and gently pulls down.  Unblemished bronze skin is revealed inch by tantalizing inch as the mage’s public armor slides down his chest and arms.  Three sets of eyes stare transfixed at the sight.

Smooth skin oiled earlier that day practically glow in the light.  Gold rings, one though each nipple, glinted, drawing attention to the perky buds.  Chest heaves at the vulnerability and attention has a flush working its way down his cheeks to his neck and shoulders.  The Iron Bull reaches up and tugs sharply on both rings.  Dorian gasps and arches his back, pain and pleasure causing his cock to strain painfully within his pants.  Arms trapped in his clothing leaves him with enough range to grasp onto the Bull’s elbows.

The Iron Bull lets his hands wonder down, down the hairless chest to the telltale curve of his belly that had absolutely nothing to do with the southern cuisine.  Down to the belts around his waist.  Slip the leather through the buckle, pull it loose.  “The pants are a different matter, though,” the Bull comments, sliding his hands to Dorian’s trembling thighs.  Whether it’s from the strain of holding them so wide or the sensations of being undressed in public he can’t say. 

They follow his hands as thick fingers deftly unlace the trousers.  Moving away they find the straps on his thighs holding the leather in place.  “We had to get creative.”  A flick of the wrist and the leathers encasing his thighs fall open.  He goes back up to the waistband.

Dorian has his head thrown back onto the Bull’s shoulder, his trust in the Bull allowing him to be bared to his friends so long as he couldn’t see it.  His grip on the Bull’s elbows tighten as he feels the material slowly dragged down.  A kiss lands softly on his exposed neck.  “You’re doing so well, Kadan,” is whispered into his ear, all breathy as the Bull’s cock hardens, pressing against Dorian’s ass.  “So beautiful for us.”

The Iron Bull pulls the hem down just far enough for everyone to get a glimpse of precious metal.  An inch of intricately molded gold catches their eyes, cock an almost painful red trapped within in.  Another inch is revealed.

“I think… I think that…  That’s something that, uh, we shouldn’t see just yet,” the Inquisitor announces, grabbing a handful of each companion’s clothing.  Dragging both up and away the Iron Bull sniggers into Dorian’s shoulder as the mage helplessly humps the air, unaware their audience is hightailing it out the door.  They leave quickly, each of them already planning on seeing the tailor about adjusting their own clothes.

When He does notice he turns his head and hums against the Bull’s ear.  “That’ll…that’ll teach ‘em not to ask questions like that.”  His words have almost lost their slur, no longer heavy as the alcohol slowly leaves his system.  “You’re not going to leave me like this, are you, amatus?”  He waves in the general direction of his body, sweat making his skin shine even more in the fire light.

“Of course not, Kadan.  Not when you were so good for us.  You know good boys get rewarded.”  The Iron Bull gently shoves him off his lap and face first onto the table.  He gives Dorian a quick slap to his still covered ass as the wood scratches lightly at his bare chest.  His mage moans but stays in place as the Iron Bull pulls out several coins and tosses them on the table next to his head.

“One of these days I’m going to claim you right here for all our friends to see,” the Bull promises, enjoying the shudder that runs down his mage’s spine.  He leans in and let’s himself rut against Dorian’s backside for a moment.  “But not tonight.”  He lays over Dorian’s back, letting his weight press him against the unforgiving wood, and kisses his neck.

With a well-practiced move he flips Dorian over and hauls him up and over his shoulder, clothes dangling haphazardly.  Dorian, taking advantage of the deserted area and his new position, proceeds to fondle the Iron Bull’s very generous backside while he takes them up to their shared chambers. 

The Iron Bull gets them to their bed and all but flings Dorian onto the mattress.  The mage almost protests the hurried move until he sees the tent at the front of those hideous trousers.  Instead he licks his lips excitedly and scoots closer to the edge of the bed.

A calloused hand cards through his hair once he’s close enough.  Before he can reach for the Bulls belt the hand tangles in his hair and _yanks_.

“Maybe later, pet.  Right now I wanna be balls deep in that tight ass of yours again.”  Hand still in his hair the Iron Bull puts the other on Dorian’s hip and turns him onto his belly.  A firm squeeze at each point tells Dorian to stay as is when the hands move away.

Once sure he wouldn’t move without permission the Iron bull sets about unsnapping and unbuckling the rest of the trousers.  He yanks both shirt and trousers off roughly, drinking in the startled gasp escaping Dorian’s lips.  As soon as all that glorious skin was bared he gets his hands all over it.  Up the long lean calves and thighs.  Over the hips, up the strong back then down to his waist.  A double handful of ass cheeks, rubbing his nose against the plugged up hole hidden between them. 

“Mmmm, I could spend all day just eating you out, Kadan.”  The Bull inhales deeply, savoring the musky scent of Dorian and the Bull’s own seed he’d massaged into the tender skin earlier that day.  He presses his thick tongue against the base of his balls and licks slowly up and past the butt plug in one nonstop motion.  “I should do that after fucking you in front of everybody.  What do you say, Dorian?”

“Please!  Please plea _se please_ ,” Dorian babbles as the Iron Bull begins playing with the plug.  He’s near tears when it’s finally pulled out, allowing the Bull’s earlier deposit of cum to leak out over his balls, dripping onto the sheets below.

The Iron Bull reaches underneath the mage and presses up onto his lower belly, single eye glazing over with lust as more cum rushes out.  “Please what, Kadan?  Please fuck you then eat you out for all to see?”  With his free hand he gathers up the fluids and shoves it back in deep, scissoring his fingers.  “Use your words.”

All Dorian can do is moan and wiggle on the bed as two fingers become three.  _“Please,”_ he gasps, painted nails kneading the sheets.  “Please fuck me.  Please, please let me come.”  He shifts his hips, fucking himself on the Bull’s thick fingers, knowing how much it pleases the larger man.  Four fingers and the pleasure teeters on the edge of pain.

A growl rolls deep in the Bull’s chest.  “I can give you one of those,” he tells him, pulling his fingers out.  A stretch to the pillows finds him with a bottle of oil in hand.  Popping the cork and slicking himself up he presses the head of his cock against Dorian’s opening.  “You know the rules, little mage.”

At Dorian’s whimper the Iron Bull thrusts in, sheathing his thick cock in one smooth motion.  “You know,” he pulls out and thrusts back in a sharp jab, “the rules.”  Hands on hips perfectly overlapping the bruises from that morning.  “I’ll fuck you so good, Kadan.”  A shift in angle, sliding his palm up to the back of Dorian’s shoulder blades and pushing him down while dragging him back, legs falling off the bed so the Bull holds his ass in the air. 

Dorian’s legs kick out weakly before hanging there.  He grips the sheets as the Iron Bull uses his body to find his pleasure.  The pressure against his back has him struggling to catch his breath, body tensing just right for the Bull.  The Bull’s balls slap loudly against his with each rough thrust. 

The Bull keeps a steady pace, enjoying his mage’s tight heat.  He pants, thrusting in and grinding their bodies together.  The move has Dorian whining and bending his legs in pleasure.  His balls tighten up and he stills, orgasm only a moment away, he releases his hold on Dorian’s hip and slaps his thigh.  Months of training kicks in and Dorian clenches down on the Bull’s cock.

Ass in the air, supported by one hand and the Bulls cock, Dorian sighs in pleasure as he feels the Bull’s hot cum spurting into his ass.  White knuckle grip on the sheets and drooling as the sensation of being filled near to bursting.  His cock remains red and aching inside his cock cage, balls pulled close to his body in desperate need of relieving their own load.

The hand on his back slides around and rests against his chest, lightly pushing him up and over the bed.  He clenches down on the Iron Bull to milk more cum from his softening cock.  The Bull leans over him quickly, grabbing the discarded butt plug as his cock starts to slip out of Dorian’s ass.  He holds the plug against the rim and pushes it back in before his cock’s even halfway out.  His mage stays a whimpering mess, shaking thighs barely keeping his ass in the air for the Bull’s indulgent tongue bath.

Once his ass was clean of the errant stings of cum that’d managed to escape, the Bull slowly shifts Dorian onto his back.  He rests his hands on the V of Dorian’s hips as he devours him with his eye.  Cock dribbling precum down his balls and onto the bed.  Belly swollen with his seed.  Chest heaving as he tries to thrust up into his hold.  Red flush from chest up to his cheeks.  Teeth bared and eyes scrunched shut as he struggles not to come.

He idly rubs his thumbs into the soft flesh and it’s almost too much.  Dorian’s panting turns to a sharp keening, hands still twisting the sheets and sucking in air harshly.  His body fights the Bull’s hold.

“Dorian.  Dorian, shh.  Calm down, Kadan.  Shh.”  The Iron Bull quickly moves to lay beside his mage.  Supporting his head with a hand he brushes the other against Dorian’s parted lips.  “Slow down.  You know you can’t come tonight.”  He moves his hand down to completely engulf balls and caged cock.

He gives them a squeeze in warning when Dorian foolishly tries to thrust up into the hold.  “Shh, Kadan.  Breathe with me now.  In and out.  That’s it!”  The Iron Bull noses Dorian’s cheek, kissing away the tears forming in the corner of his eye.  He keeps talking to Dorian, helping him focus enough to pull away from his orgasm. 

Several minutes pass with the Iron Bull half looming over Dorian, firm hold on his privates, whispering praises against his lips, into his ear.  Once his trembling subsides and the urge to come fades away Dorian’s entire body unclenches and he lays boneless and shaking against sweaty sheets.

“Good?” he asks, tilting his chin up.  Ringed fingers start twisting in the sheets when the Bull takes longer than a heartbeat to respond.  “Good?” he repeats, throat tight.

The Bull smiles down at him, so proud he’d been able to prevent himself from coming.  “Very good, Dorian.”  He kisses him, huffing as Dorian’s mussed mustache tickles his lips.  “Two more nights.  Then you can come.  You can hold out for that long, right?”  He shifts his hand up to rub soothingly over Dorian’s rounded belly.  “Then once you’re all clean and warm from your bath I’ll carry you to our bed.  Get you all oiled up, fuck you nice and hard while you’re still so pliant.  Going to plug you up before finally taking your sleeve off your tiny little cock.”  The Bull rubs a bit harder against the bump, enjoying the effect his words are having on both of them, as Dorian starts squirming in want.

 “I’d slide it off real slow.  I can’t wait to see the imprints it leaves on your pretty cock.  Going to get my mouth on it, suck you nice and slow, run my tongue over all those groves that’ve been pressed into it from the sleeve.”  The Bull shifts until he’s straddling the prone mage.  Knees gripping Dorian’s hips he rests his weight on his legs.  “Yeeah.  Gonna suck on your itty bitty cock ‘til you come dry.”  He takes his hardening cock in hand, still slick with oil and cum, and starts jerking off.  “Gonna empty you out before prettying you back up with your sleeve and locking it in place for another week.”

“Two more days, Kadan.  Two more days until I get my mouth on you.  You can wait that long, right?  You know if you come now you’ll be trussed up until the end of the month like last time.  Three weeks is too long.  You wouldn’t do that to us would you?”  The Iron Bull speeds up his hand, Dorian’s whimpering at his words spurring him on.

“No, amatus.  I’ll be good,” Dorian whimpers enticingly, hips thrusting up to rub against the Bull’s balls.

That was all the Bull needed to come a second time, covering Dorian’s torso in his cum. 

The Bull stays there kneeling over his mage, breathing hard as he comes down from a second orgasm.  Once his legs can support him he stumbles over to the water basin and brings back a cloth to wipe them both down.  A flick of the wrist over his shoulder has the soiled rag landing vaguely in the direction of the basin.

He settles down on the bed, Dorian tucked close to his side, head on his chest as the mage unconsciously humps against his leg.  Soothingly he rubs his hand up and down Dorian’s side.  As the motion slows and he feels the man start to cool down enough to sleep he says, “Who knew asking about fashion could end so well?”

Dorian flops his arm against the Bull’s chest, groaning.  He rolls over with a huff, legs squeezing together, restrained cock trapped between them. 

Two more days.


End file.
